


Body Positive

by RaeDMagdon



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fingering, First Time, Fluffy, Mutual Penetration, Oral Sex, Penetration, Photography, Soft sex, Sweet, Trans Lexa, dysphoria friendly, mild anal, nude photograph, should be safe for everyone to read :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 08:39:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12295464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeDMagdon/pseuds/RaeDMagdon
Summary: Clarke is a photography student who needs models for her next project. There's just one person left to ask... Lexa, her childhood best friend and her secret crush.





	Body Positive

**Author's Note:**

> This story features trans!Lexa, but it should be safe for everyone to read and enjoy. :)
> 
> As always, I'm @raedmagdon on tumblr and twitter.

Clarke chewed the end of her pen, leaving tooth-shaped indents in the hard plastic. Sitting on the desk in front of her was a list, the same list she’d been struggling with for days. The edges of the paper were crinkled, and it was full of ink smudges, along with some doodles in the margins. All the names on it were either crossed out with a single line through the middle, or scribbled out completely.   
  
With a sigh, Clarke went down the list:  _ Monty, Raven… Not Lexa… Octavia, Lincoln… Not Lexa… Anya, Harper, Munroe… Not Lexa… Bellamy because he owed me for that one time I got Octavia out of trouble… Not Lexa… Miller, Bryan, Finn—shit, that was an awkward one… Remind me never to photograph my ex naked again… Not Lexa. _   
  
She shoved the paper away and slumped in her chair, shoulders sagging in defeat. She’d added and removed Lexa’s name at least a dozen times, but she was still conflicted. Lexa was her best friend. Her very best friend. Her very best friend and secret crush since they’d met at a neighborhood barbecue when they were both seven. They’d spent the evening catching fireflies and chasing each other around with sauce all over their faces.

A lot had changed since then. They’d grown up attending middle and high school together. Clarke had come out as a freshman and Lexa had transitioned as a sophomore. But during all those years, one thing had remained constant: Clarke was still hopelessly stuck on her best friend.   
  
Clarke knew nothing would come of it. Even though Lexa was a lesbian, she’d never shown much of an interest in dating. She was more of a bookworm-slash-martial-artist, and definitely an introvert. She’d never even admitted to having a crush on anyone (except Audrey Hepburn, and she was dead, so it didn’t count). Still, Clarke’s feelings presented the occasional problem. Problems like this one.   
  
“It wouldn’t be a big deal to ask her,” she said to her empty dorm room. There was no answer, of course, only the faint hum of the radiator and the sound of a group of skateboarders on the sidewalk. But it would be a big deal. It would be a huge deal, not only because of her crush, but because Lexa had body image issues of her own. She’d come a long way since sophomore year of high school, emotionally as well as physically, but Clarke knew that deep down, she still had insecurities.

Lexa thought her shoulders were too broad (Clarke loved her shoulder muscles), her hips too narrow (Clarke had definitely noticed the extra padding they’d put on these past few years), her chin too chiseled (her jawline made Clarke drool just thinking about it), her breasts too small (Clarke thought they were the perfect size, and she’d spent way too much time thinking about what color Lexa’s nipples were. Brown, she’d discovered thanks to years of sleepovers). And that was just the top half.   
  
Clarke braced her elbow on her desk, lowering her forehead into her hand. “No. It’d be shitty of me to ask her. Then she’ll have to find an awkward, polite way to say no. I’ll feel terrible, and she’ll feel terrible because I feel terrible. Just, no.”   
  
But.   
  
But, taking out all her personal feelings, Lexa really would be perfect for this project. She was beautiful and confident and unique, and Clarke couldn’t think of anyone who had worked harder to love their body. That was the whole point of her final project: to photograph nude figures that weren’t typically shown in magazines or on TV. The internet had a wide variety, but even there, white and thin was considered the default. She’d wanted to go beyond that and showcase a wider range—partially because she was on the fuller side herself, and hadn’t always loved it. If she could make someone else feel a little more confident, someone like her or Lexa, it would be worth it.

Clarke groaned in frustration. No matter how many times she tossed the idea around in her brain, no matter how many mental pros and cons lists she made, she couldn’t come to a decision. Normally, she would ask Lexa for advice, but Lexa was the source of her problem. She’d have to figure this one out on her own.   
  
After staring at the list for a long time, she wrote Lexa’s name on it yet again, followed by a question mark.

***

Lexa let her bag slough off her shoulder, rolling her arm in its socket. She knew she should wear an actual backpack if she was going to carry so many heavy books, but she’d gotten into the habit of using her satchel because it was convenient. Her sensei wasn’t going to be happy when she came to the dojo with sloppy posture.   
  
After rolling her neck a few times, she plopped into her usual chair at her usual table by the usual window, waiting patiently for her usual lunch buddy. Well, maybe not so patiently. She tapped her fingers nervously on the table, biting her lip as she watched for Clarke to walk through the door.   
  
_ Today’s the day, _ Lexa thought, one of her regular mantras.  _ Today’s the day I tell her how I feel.  _ Of course, that was the same thing she’d been telling herself for the past three years. So far, no dice. She wasn’t usually a coward—plenty of things she’d done in her life had taken guts, and she’d never shied away from them—but this was different. This was about Clarke.   
  
As if thinking about her had summoned her, Lexa caught a glimpse of Clarke’s blonde hair moving through the crowd by the dining hall buffet.  _ Speak of the devil.  _ She ran her hand nervously through her own hair, hoping she looked somewhat presentable. Not that Clarke would notice or care about something as trivial as her appearance.  _ But what if she does? _   
  
Lexa had time to swallow and put on a smile as Clarke headed her way. Clarke grinned back at her, plopping her tray down on the table a little too loudly before she sat down. “Guess what happened today.”   
  
“What happened?” Lexa asked, trying to retain her focus. She really was interested in the details of her best friend’s life, but it was hard to pay attention when Clarke wore low-cut shirts—which she definitely was today. Her breasts were so perfect it almost wasn’t fair. Lexa thought she might actually die and go to heaven if she ever got to place her lips on the mole beneath Clarke’s collarbone.   
  
“I had to give constructive criticism on Monty’s final project.”   
  
There was a distinct note of dissatisfaction in Clarke’s voice, and Lexa raised an eyebrow. “And this is a bad thing, why?”   
  
“Because it was way cooler than mine.” Clarke sighed deeply. “Sorry. I guess I’m going a little green-eyed monster about it. I’m happy for him, really.”   
  
“I know you are, Clarke. You’re not an asshole.”   
  
“Then why do I feel like one?” Clarke started shoveling lasagna into her mouth, catching a little sauce on the corner of her lip. “He wush doin’ famush paintinffs.”   
  
Lexa stifled a laugh. Even when Clarke was behaving in the most undignified way, she somehow still managed to look beautiful. “Come again?”   
  
Clarke swallowed. “That’s what she said.”   
  
“Yeah,” Lexa said, rolling her eyes indulgently. “But seriously, what?”   
  
“He’s taking photographs that mirror the settings and poses of well known paintings. And they’re really fucking good.”   
  
“Then good for him,” Lexa said. “I like Monty.”   
  
“Me too. He’s great. But he’s sailing through this with an awesome idea, and I’m still struggling.”   
  
Lexa frowned. “I thought the body positive photo portraits were important to you, though? And don’t you have a lot of subjects?”   
  
“Well, yeah… I’ve seen more pubes than I was expecting this year. Did you know Anya goes Brazilian?”   
  
Lexa pulled a face. “Can we not talk about my cousin’s pubic hair?”   
  
“You’re no fun. My concept is great, but the execution? Not so much. It feels like something’s missing, you know?”   
  
“I get it,” Lexa said, with considerable disappointment on Clarke’s behalf. “Not sure how I can help, though. I’m not a photographer, and you didn’t ask to photograph me, so…”    
  
Lexa winced as soon as the words came out of her mouth. She’d been biting her tongue for a month, trying not to be wounded by the fact that Clarke had asked basically all of their mutual friends to pose except for her. Unfortunately, she wasn’t always as good at burying her feelings as she liked to pretend.

“Wait,” Clarke said, her brow furrowing in confusion. “You wanted me to ask you?”

Lexa winced. She hadn’t meant to let her feelings slip out, but it was too late to take them back. Clarke was staring at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. “Well, kind of? You asked everyone else.”   
  
To Lexa’s confusion, Clarke smiled. “Of course I wanted you to pose too, Lex. The only reason I didn’t ask was because, well…”   
  
“Because I’m trans?” Lexa asked, trying and failing to swallow down her hurt.   
  
“Not really,” Clarke said. “At least, that’s not how I thought about it. I just know that sometimes you feel uncomfortable with your body. If you were cis and felt that way, I wouldn’t have asked you either.” She lowered her eyes. “To tell you the truth, if someone else in my class had asked me to do this, I’m not sure I would have said yes.”   
  
Lexa’s disappointment faded. “Really?”   
  
“Really. I’m all about body positivity in theory, but feeling it in here is harder.” Clarke pressed her palm in the middle of her chest. “It’s something I’m still working on, you know?”   
  
“I wish you could see yourself like…”  _ Like I see you.  _ “…like everyone else sees you, Clarke. I know looks aren’t the most important thing, but since that’s what we’re talking about, you’re drop dead gorgeous.”   
  
Clarke snorted.   
  
“Sorry,” Lexa said, “but I don’t make the rules.”   
  
“Your opinion might be a little biased, but thanks. It’s flattering. And while we’re on the subject, you are one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen in my life.”   
  
Lexa shifted in her seat. It wasn’t the first time Clarke had said so, but hearing it was always confusing. Even while her heart leapt with joy at the prospect that Clarke might find her attractive, she couldn’t dismiss the niggling doubt that Clarke was just saying it to boost her confidence. There was no way to tell for sure which was true.   
  
“No, really,” Clarke insisted. She leaned sideways in her chair, bending down to pull a crumpled piece of paper out of her backpack. “Yours was the first name on my list, see?”   
  
Lexa took the paper—somewhat more gingerly when she noticed it was dangling precariously close to Clarke’s lasagna. She smoothed it out and read through the names. “Clarke, all that’s at the top of this list is a big scribble.”   
  
“Yeah,” Clarke said. “Your name’s under there.”   
  
Lexa continued scanning the list. “Wait, are all these scribbles me?”   
  
Clarke nodded. “I kept going back and forth on asking. I wanted you, but I wanted you to be comfortable more.”   
  
_ I wanted you. I want you. _   
  
Those words made Lexa momentarily forget what she was doing. Even though she knew Clarke didn’t mean anything romantic by it, her heart started pounding harder. She let go of the list and brought her hands beneath the table, rubbing her palms on her jeans. They’d broken out in a nervous sweat.   
  
“You really did want me,” she said, pretending to stare at the list, but really stealing glances at Clarke. Clarke was looking at her hopefully, and those beautiful blue eyes were Lexa’s undoing—as usual. “Okay. I’ll do it.”   
  
A beaming smile spread across Clarke’s face. “Really?”   
  
“Yes. If you still want me to, that is.”   
  
“Are you kidding? Hell yeah I do!” Clarke scrambled out of her chair, and before Lexa knew it, she was being pulled up and into a tight hug. Even with all the breath crushed out of her, she couldn’t help hugging back. Feeling Clarke in her arms, even for just a moment, was a temptation she simply couldn’t resist.   
  
Eventually, Clarke let her go. Lexa mourned the loss, but drew in a grateful breath of air. “So, how do we do this?”   
  
“Just drop by the studio tonight at eight. Everyone’ll be gone by then. I’ll ask for the keys.”   
  
“Aren’t you even going to ask me if I have class or homework?”   
  
“No,” Clarke said. “I know your schedule.”   
  
“Creep.”   
  
“Well, I am photographing you naked today, so…”   
  
That was when it sank in. Lexa’s cheeks burned as she realized—stupidly, and for the first time—the full extent of what she had agreed to.   
  
Clarke was going to photograph her naked.   
  
Naked, as in no clothes.   
  
As in, Clarke was going to be staring at her naked body for an extended period of time. Lexa felt an ache in her lower belly at the thought. She knew she’d be there as a model, not as Clarke’s lover (no matter how much she wished that were the case), but still.   
  
“What should I wear?” she asked so there wouldn’t be an awkward silence.   
  
“Something easy to take off,” Clarke said. Her eyes roamed up and down Lexa’s body, as if she was conducting a preliminary analysis. “I think I know what I want to do with you.”   
  
The ache in Lexa’s core worsened. “What  _ do _ you want to do to me? Um, with me.”   
  
Clarke’s happy grin became a devious smirk. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

***

Clarke’s hands shook as she adjusted the strobe lights for what had to be the fiftieth time in the past half-hour. She’d arrived to unlock the studio early, which was a good thing, because she’d spent most of the extra time flitting around, accomplishing absolutely nothing.   
  
During lunch with Lexa, she’d had high hopes that she’d be able to remain professional. She cared a great deal about her project, and even more about her best friend. Those two things, she’d thought, would certainly be enough to get her through. But to her embarrassment and dismay, just the thought of seeing Lexa naked made butterflies erupt in her belly.   
  
_ You can’t think of it that way,  _ Clarke told herself as she descended the short stepladder next to the lights.  _ You can’t think of  _ her _ that way. She isn’t just the most beautiful woman you know. She’s your best friend. Do you really want to fuck that up just to stare at her tits? _   
  
_ But it’s not just her tits, _ another devilish voice in her head said.  _ It’s her strong shoulders, and her smooth stomach, and her firm abs, and those sexy slender hips, and her thighs, and… _ _  
_   
Clarke physically shook herself to banish those thoughts. They were much too dangerous to dwell on. She forced herself to focus on her set-up, checking to make sure everything was perfect. It was, as far as she could tell. The sheets were on the floor, the backing drapes were straight, the strobes were all where she wanted them.   
  
She headed over to the table where her camera and lenses were waiting. She had her standard 35mm, even though she doubted she’d use it, as well as a 50mm and an 85mm. She had enough experience photographing people to use the 50mm lens distortion to her advantage, but her hand was itching for the 85 anyway. She wanted to capture Lexa purely and honestly, without any special tricks.  _ Just a regular portrait,  _ she told herself.  _ Nothing weird. Nothing sexual. _ _  
_   
Her internal pep talk was interrupted by a bang on the door. Clarke jumped. She’d been expecting Lexa, of course, but hearing her outside made everything real all of a sudden—more frightening, more intense… and more exciting.    
  
_ Shit. I’m actually gonna do this, huh? I’m gonna see her naked. _ Doubts swirled in Clarke’s mind, but common sense got the better of her. She couldn’t just leave Lexa standing outside the studio. That would be rude. She hurried over and unlocked the door.   
  
When she did, she was immediately stunned by Lexa’s smile. It was small and shy, but it still made Clarke feel like her heart might burst through her chest. She actually had a moment of dizziness before she managed to recover enough to talk. “Hey,” she said, pulling Lexa instinctively into a hug.   
  
That proved to be a mistake. Hugging Lexa meant she caught a whiff of sweet body spray, and the spinning in her head grew worse.   
  
“Hey, Clarke.” If Lexa noticed Clarke’s awkwardness, she didn’t let on. She hugged Clarke back, and for a moment, Clarke felt suspended in time. If she’d had any say in it, she might have stayed in Lexa’s embrace for hours instead of pitiful seconds.   
  
Eventually, though, Clarke knew she had to let go. She pulled back, feeling a tug of reluctance. “Ready to get naked?” she asked, plastering what she hoped was a friendly grin on her face.   
  
“You bet.”   
  
Lexa seemed surprisingly calm about the whole thing, which made a coat of sweat sprout along the back of Clarke’s neck. “You sure? Just want to double-check.”   
  
“Yes,” Lexa said, her voice quiet but confident. “I’ve thought about it a lot—before you even asked me, actually. What you’re doing is important. I think it might even help me to have a copy.”   
  
Clarke’s brows lifted. “You do?”   
  
“I know you’ll get my good side. Who wouldn’t want a flattering nude picture of themselves to look at when they’re feeling down?”   
  
“Good point,” Clarke said.   
  
Lexa took a deep breath, and Clarke found herself holding hers. “So, what do I do? I’m in your very talented hands.”   
  
_ Oh god, how I wish that were true. _ “Well, take off your clothes and go stand on the sheets,” she said out loud, gesturing over at her set-up. “I’ve got a screen you can change behind if you want, so you can have some privacy.”   
  
“I’ll be okay,” Lexa said. “Do I need more makeup or something?”   
  
Clarke studied Lexa’s face. She had on a pretty natural look: tinted moisturizer, subtle highlights, faint brown eyeliner with a light pink lip. Nothing too eye-popping. (It did, however, threaten to make Clarke’s eyes pop out like a cliché cartoon character’s.)   
  
“What you’ve got on is fine. Natural is the way to go here.”

Lexa’s shoulders relaxed visibly. “Okay. Sometimes I overthink makeup.”   
  
“Why?” Clarke asked. “You’re good at it.”   
  
“Wait, really?” Lexa looked surprised. “I learned on the internet about three years later than everyone else our age.”   
  
Honestly, Clarke thought Lexa would have looked gorgeous without any makeup at all and wearing a paper bag, but she knew this wasn’t the time to say so. “I never would’ve guessed. But you look great today, so we can start whenever you want. So…”   
  
“So…” Lexa stared for a moment before seeming to realize what the next step in the procedure was supposed to be. “Clothes. Okay.” She walked over to the corner where the sheet and backdrop were set up under the lights and started peeling off her shirt.   
  
Clarke hesitated. More than anything, she wanted to watch Lexa strip. It was something she’d imagined hundreds of times, something she’d caught glimpses of when Lexa had stayed over at her parents’ house or in her dorm room, but Lexa had never gotten totally naked in front of her. She always kept her underwear on at the very least, and usually turned around or stood behind whatever furniture was available.   
  
_ No. Bad Clarke. Friends don’t leer at each other like perverts, and photographers don’t ogle their clients. _   
  
Desperate for a distraction, Clarke headed for her equipment. After fiddling with the different lenses on the table, she picked up the 85mm and attached it to her camera. She took her time shuffling over to the tripod, but on the way, she couldn’t help stealing a quick peek. She tried to justify herself— _ I have to look sometime if I’m going to photograph her _ —but that didn’t stop the hot blush that spread across her face, or the sudden surge of heat that rushed straight between her legs.   
  
Lexa was beautiful. Clarke had known that before. It wasn’t even just about how she looked. It was how she moved, so graceful and confident. It was how she spoke, in a tone that always made other people listen. And it was a certain glow she had, an aura that made her special in a way Clarke couldn’t put her finger on. That was what she wanted to capture most of all: the warmth that radiated from Lexa and soaked into her every time their eyes met.   
  
Of course, that didn’t mean her body wasn’t stunning on its own. Clarke tried to keep her eyes trained on Lexa’s face, but even that was distracting. She seemed a little nervous, and her green eyes were wider than normal, but something about the vulnerability beneath her hard-earned strength made her even more captivating to look at. Her skin was a gorgeous tan, and it seemed to shine under the lights even though Lexa wasn’t sweating overly much.   
  
And there was so much skin, too. All of it. All the skin. No bra, no underwear, no nothing. Just Lexa. Lots and lots of naked Lexa. So much naked Lexa that Clarke didn’t know where to start.

Her eyes darted to Lexa’s shoulders first—she’d always loved Lexa’s shoulders, and she especially loved imagining what it would be like to kiss them or wrap her hands around them. Somehow, they managed to be strong without being overly muscled. The shape of her collarbone and the curve of her chest added a layer of soft femininity over her athlete’s bone structure, and Clarke’s mouth went dry, then wet again as she began to drool.   
  
She didn’t have a clue why Lexa was upset about her breasts. Sure, they were on the smaller side—a B cup, Clarke suspected, from eyeballing it—but their shape was firm and inviting, and they were capped with the most adorable brown nipples that were already hard and straining against the air. And her abdomen. Oh Lord, her abdomen. The muscles there were toned and prominent, and Clarke felt a tiny bit of jealousy.   
  
_ Well, I’d hope mine would look like that if I trained like she does… _   
  
But the jealousy didn’t last long. Looking was too much of a treat. Her stare moved lower, past the dip of Lexa’s navel and beneath her hipbones to the juncture of her thighs.   
  
_ Oh. _   
  
Clarke wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting. She knew Lexa had a… well, a penis, although she should really ask Lexa what she wanted it to be called. She’d thought about it (sometimes at night, sometimes under the covers with her hand down her panties), and then always promptly felt guilty afterward, because she knew Lexa’s feelings on her anatomy were mixed. But it was… well, average? Based on her experience, at least.   
  
The shaft was smooth, nestled in a short-cropped and neatly trimmed patch of pubic hair. Other than being pink and soft and kind of pretty—which, Clarke supposed, was saying a lot, since most penises looked pretty ridiculous to begin with—it didn’t stand out. It was more the woman it was attached to. The woman who was currently staring back at her while she gawked like an idiot.   
  
“Clarke?”   
  
Clarke blinked. “Sorry! Oh shit. I didn’t mean to stare, I totally zoned out.”   
  
Lexa’s eyes darted to the side. “Um…”   
  
“Do you wanna know what I was thinking? It wasn’t anything creepy.”  _ Okay, it was creepy. But she doesn’t have to know that. I don’t want to freak her out. _   
  
“Okay?” Lexa said, still fairly uncertain.   
  
“I was just wondering what you call your junk? Because I don’t wanna call it something that makes you uncomfortable. And I’m assuming you don’t want a full-on crotch shot, so I might ask you to, er, adjust. You know, leave something to the imagination.”   
  
Lexa seemed quite relieved after hearing that. She laughed, although she also fold her arms somewhat awkwardly over her breasts. “Well, I try not to think about it. My dysphoria isn’t always bad, but once and awhile it just…” She sighed. “It doesn’t constantly bother me that it’s there on good days. It’s more like a reminder that some girls just flat-out won’t want to date me.”   
  
Clarke’s thirst was momentarily replaced with sympathy. “I wanna say something, but I don’t know what. ‘We all get rejected sometimes for random reasons’ doesn’t fit the bill.”   
  
“I tell myself that,” Lexa sighed. “And I know that if it’s a deal breaker for someone, they weren’t right for me...”   
  
“Well, I’ll tell you this: you’re gorgeous. I’d date you.” It was only when Lexa’s eyes widened that Clarke realized what she’d said. For a moment, her mind went blank except for loud, clanging alarm bells.  _ Shit shit shit! Recover, backtrack, something!  _ “Hypothetically,” she stammered. “If I was some girl you asked out instead of your best friend.”   
  
“Right,” Lexa said. “Hypothetically.” Her voice was a little softer than usual, and as Clarke’s panic faded, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, Lexa seemed… disappointed?

Clarke pushed that thought aside and swallowed, trying to get a grip on herself. It was a struggle, but she managed to calm down her racing heart and ignore the flush crawling over her skin. “Okay. Let’s not call it anything for now then. If I tell you to adjust, you’ll know what I mean. Is that all right?”   
  
Lexa’s smile returned, although it still seemed slightly nervous. “Thanks, Clarke.”   
  
“Any time, gorgeous.” Clarke gave Lexa what she hoped was a warm and reassuring look before taking her place behind the camera. “You ready? I want to try a few poses, but I think a profile to start.”   
  
That perked Lexa up even more. “Okay. My boobs look bigger from the side anyway.”   
  
_ You look perfect from any angle, Lexa. _   
  
“How about sitting down? Front knee up, back leg straight.”   
  
Lexa assumed the position, and Clarke’s flutters returned. “Perfect,” she breathed, feeling her mouth grow dry even as other parts of her body became very, very wet. “Hold it just like that.”

***

Lexa tried to hold still as the camera clicked away, but it was incredibly difficult. Each snap made her hyperaware of Clarke’s gaze, and the fact that, even through a lens, it was fixed directly on her.   
  
_ Clarke’s staring at me. At my body. And she called me gorgeous… _   
  
She fought to push those thoughts away, but they kept resurfacing. Being naked and exposed in front of someone should have made her feel vulnerable—and it did—but Lexa couldn’t help wondering if her lightheadedness and trembling limbs had another cause as well.   
  
_ She said she would date me… _ _  
_ _  
_ _ No, Lexa. You’re reading too much into it. She was trying to boost your confidence. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ But what if she meant it? I saw her eyes. They looked serious. I don’t think Clarke would lie to me. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ She didn’t ask you to be in her project. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ What if that’s because she cares about me as more than a best friend? _   
  
Lexa desperately wanted to turn and look at Clarke’s face, to search for answers there, but she forced herself to hold her pose. She gazed at the dark maroon drapes, keeping her back leg extended and her arm on top of her front knee.   
  
“That’s great,” Clarke said from off to the side. “You look amazing.”   
  
Lexa shuddered.   
  
_ She thinks I look amazing… _ _  
_ _  
_ _ She’s just saying that. She’s talking about the composition. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ But what if she means me? _   
  
“Okay. I want a few with your stomach showing more. It’d be a crime not to show off abs that fine.”   
  
_ She likes my abs? She likes my abs. _   
  
Suddenly, all those years of martial arts seemed worth it.   
  
Lexa lowered her leg and turned, placing her hands in her lap to cover herself. “Thanks. What do you need me to do?”   
  
“Hold on.”   
  
Clarke stepped out from behind the camera, and Lexa watched her approach with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. When Clarke stepped onto the sheets and began to reposition her, she allowed it, although her skin burned wherever Clarke’s hands travelled. They were professional, and didn’t linger at first, but they were warm and soft, and… there. Had Clarke cupped her hip on purpose?   
  
“Yeah. Kind of, uh, tuck yourself in a little and fold your legs, then lean back on your arms.”   
  
Lexa did, but she nearly gasped when Clarke’s fingertips brushed the side of her neck. “Sorry,” Clarke said. “Just fixing your hair. Ooh. Soft. Why have I never touched your hair before?”   
  
“I don’t know,” Lexa said. “Kind of nice.”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
Clarke threaded her fingers through Lexa’s hair on purpose, and they both laughed. “I guess you did have it shorter before. I remember you braiding mine.”   
  
Lexa remembered too. She’d spent her share of time in those early years sifting her fingers through Clarke’s beautiful blonde hair, watching the strands slide through like golden water. It had been such an intimate thing to do, although it had filled her with a curious sense of longing she hadn’t recognized until several years later.   
  
_ I think I loved her even back then. I thought it was just me figuring out I was a girl and wanting to look like her, but… I just wanted to touch her. Innocently touch her. _   
  
In the present, however, Lexa’s thoughts were far from innocent. She didn’t just want to touch Clarke’s hair. She wanted to draw Clarke’s lips to hers, to pull Clarke close and urge her friend’s lips to travel down along her body.   
  
_ Stop it. Be professional. _   
  
“Am I okay now?” she asked, realizing that Clarke was staring at her with a blank expression.   
  
Clarke seemed to shake herself. “Yeah. You’re perfect. One second.”   
  
She stepped back around the camera, and Lexa’s heart sank. Part of her wished Clarke had stayed nearby longer.   
  
As the camera kept clicking, Lexa’s urge to squirm grew stronger. She became aware of how the cool air of the studio felt against her naked body, and she could feel where Clarke’s gaze was thanks to patches of blushing heat on her skin.  _ Or maybe she isn’t looking. Maybe it’s just my imagination. _   
  
Imagination or not, the possibility that Clarke might be looking at her breasts made her nipples stiffen. She tried to relax, telling herself it wouldn’t be noticeable or unusual in the cold, but that wasn’t much reassurance. She didn’t even know if she wanted reassurance, because the idea of Clarke looking at her breasts was actually kind of nice.   
  
Unfortunately, that train of thought led to other, more noticeable reactions.   
  
Lexa didn’t normally deal with too many erections. They happened occasionally, mostly in the morning, but she certainly didn’t get as many as the year before she’d started HRT, when a stiff breeze had been enough to make her pants uncomfortable (especially around Clarke, as she recalled). But they still did pop up from time to time (again, usually around Clarke), and right now, her body seemed to decide that it was going to react, hormones or not. The rest of her body went cold and tingly as heat rushed between her legs and up to her cheeks, spreading there like throbbing patches of fire.

Clarke’s breath hitched loudly from behind the camera.

Lexa winced at the noise. She held still, half-terrified, unsure what to do. She couldn’t bear to look, but she knew Clarke was staring—she could feel Clarke’s eyes boring into her even from several feet away. _ Come on,  _ she told herself.  _ Cover yourself. Cross your legs. Do something!  _ But she couldn’t move. She was completely paralyzed, and the longer she waited, the worse the aching got.   
  
At last, she couldn’t bear it anymore. She did move, but it was to do the thing she wanted least. She turned toward Clarke, lips trembling with an apology and excuses, but her words failed her. Clarke wasn’t looking through the lens of the camera anymore. She was looking over it, and her eyes were fixed straight on the juncture of Lexa’s thighs and at everything in between.   
  
There was silence. Painful, agonizing silence. Then, just when Lexa thought her heart was going to burst straight through her chest, Clarke took the camera off the tripod and draped the strap around her neck, approaching with slow, cautious steps.   
  
“Lexa?”   
  
Lexa choked through a few rasping breaths. She couldn’t answer, but she forced herself to look into Clarke’s eyes.   
  
“Do you trust me?”   
  
The question,  _ ‘Do you trust me’ _ , should have terrified her even more, but something in the tone of Clarke’s voice had a dramatic effect. Some of the numbness in Lexa’s limbs faded, and the pool of heat between her legs spread wider. The effect was almost… calming? Something about the way Clarke was looking at her, the cautious steps Clarke approached her with, soothed the sharpest edges of Lexa’s fear.   
  
At last, her voice returned, only for one hesitant word: “Y-yes?”   
  
Clarke smiled, and Lexa felt the tender warmth of it deep in her belly. “Okay.”   
  
That one word,  _ ‘okay’, _ almost sounded like a promise, but before Lexa could make sense of it, Clarke was standing over her, raising the camera again. The clicking resumed, and Lexa didn’t move. She couldn’t, but she also didn’t want to. The longer this moment lasted, the more she realized that she liked having Clarke’s eyes on her. She liked that Clarke was drinking her body in. It made her feel fuzzy and lightheaded, like she’d just downed a whole glass of wine at once, and when Clarke paused, reaching down to adjust her limbs, Lexa didn’t protest.   
  
In that moment, Lexa knew. Lexa knew that Clarke knew how she felt, and despite her utter terror before, she wasn’t afraid. She was clay in Clarke’s hands, ready to be molded in any way the woman she loved desired.

***

Clarke was in awe—and she didn’t use that word lightly. She had seen photographs that made her feel a wide range of emotions, from wistful grief to boundless joy. But nothing had ever brought so many of Clarke’s feelings bubbling up to the surface all at once. Looking at Lexa, even from behind the camera’s lens, stole every bit of breath from her body.   
  
There was desire, of course. How could there not be? Lexa was posed naked before her, every beautiful sweep and plane on display. And there was deep affection. It touched her that Lexa trusted her enough to remain so exposed. There was longing, because at last, the woman she had pined for since childhood was lying bare beneath her, so close and yet still untouchable.   
  
And there was love, too. So much love.   
  
Clarke always felt its low hum within her, even when Lexa wasn’t nearby, but now, its vibrations rocked her to her very core. She felt as though she might brim over with it, and since she couldn’t touch—not without Lexa’s permission, not without some sign that it was okay—she poured it into her work. The shutter clicked over and over again, but Clarke barely heard the noise. She was entirely focused, not on lighting or composition, but on Lexa, wholly and completely.   
  
Every time she saw something she adored, she pressed the button. There, the curve of Lexa’s shoulder. There, the gleaming dip of Lexa’s cleavage where just a little sweat had gathered. There, the shadow that swooped down her side from rib to hip. There, the graceful stretch of her leg, the long limbs of an athlete who cared about her body. And Lexa’s face. Oh, Lexa’s face. She had the pleading face of a woman in one of Monty’s renaissance paintings, the smooth, golden whole of it bathed in light, looking upward with beseechingly parted lips for something… something…   
  
_ For me. Is Lexa looking for me? Is she… waiting for me? _   
  
The longing came again, twice as fierce as before, and Clarke couldn’t shove it down. She let it wash over her as she circled, clicking away, occasionally dragging the feathers of her fingers over Lexa’s body to pose her, never touching for more than the briefest moment. She couldn’t. It burned too much.   
  
“Clarke?”   
  
Lexa’s soft, questioning voice shattered the silence. Clarke froze, hands shaking, but she didn’t lower the camera. She feared that if she did, the moment would vanish as if it had never existed, and she couldn’t bear that. She had the irrational thought that she might actually die.   
  
“Clarke,” Lexa said, her voice raw and pleading. “Look at me?”   
  
_ She wants me to look. She wants me to see her. Not the camera. Me. She wants me. _   
  
Clarke lowered the camera and looked. She looked for a long time, scarcely able to stand it. She was Icarus flying too close to the sun, and she feared she might very well be consumed—and yet, she couldn’t look away. She removed the camera from around her neck and set it aside, lowering herself onto the sheets with Lexa.   
  
There was another long pause before they kissed, as if they weren’t sure they should. One of them said, “Can I?” but Clarke wasn’t sure whether the words came from her or Lexa. It didn’t matter, because then their mouths met, and the world felt hotter than strobe lights could possibly make it. They kissed until their mouths were wet and their hands were clasping and their breaths were all mingled together, and as soon as it ended, they came back for more.

One kiss became two, then a constant string, sometimes with words whispered between.   
  
“I wanted to for…”   
  
“…so long and—”   
  
“—me too, but I…”   
  
What they said didn’t matter. Touching mattered. Clarke’s hands on Lexa’s bare skin mattered. They roamed far and wide, unable to remain in one place. She was selfish, worshipful, eager to drink in every bit of Lexa that she could through her palms. She stroked down Lexa’s arms, the strong muscles she had so admired through her camera lens. She caressed the side of Lexa’s lovely face, savoring the sweet smell of Lexa’s breath. And finally, she cupped Lexa’s breasts—the breasts that Clarke had ached to touch for what felt like always.   
  
Lexa’s breath hitched against Clarke’s mouth. Clarke waited, unsure, but then Lexa initiated another kiss, and Clarke took that as consent. She squeezed softly at first, then more firmly when she discovered she enjoyed the noises Lexa made. She rested her other hand on Lexa’s hip, holding on to steady herself as much as Lexa. Part of her feared that if she lost contact with Lexa’s body for even a moment, she’d never get to feel it again.   
  
It was wonderful. So wonderful. She kneaded Lexa’s breast and stroked her side, and Lexa caressed her hair and clutched the back of her neck, and all of it made Clarke break out into a pleasant sweat. She could smell Lexa as well as feel her, lingering shampoo as well as a warm scent, and it drove her wild. She wanted to taste Lexa’s flesh as well as her mouth, and she started kissing down Lexa’s neck without conscious thought.   
  
Lexa allowed it. She did more than allow it: she spread her legs and drew Clarke on top of her. Clarke tipped her down onto the sheets, shuddering as Lexa’s fingertips slid beneath the hem of her shirt. It was a bit of a struggle getting it up and off, but so worth it, because when Lexa removed it and unhooked her bra as well, they were finally chest to chest with nothing in the way.   
  
Clarke thrilled at the thud of Lexa’s heartbeat beneath her. She had everything she wanted, and all she could do was rejoice. Although she could feel Lexa’s need pressing into her thigh, she didn’t rush downward. She took her time, nibbling Lexa’s jawline until they were both squirming against each other for more contact. Lexa traced patterns along Clarke’s spine, pictures Clarke arched to know better. And when Lexa shifted beneath her, scooting down to take Clarke’s nipple into her mouth, Clarke groaned aloud into the empty studio.   
  
She had intended to do that first, but now that Lexa’s mouth was on her, she didn’t have the will to make it stop. She braced herself on one elbow, using her other hand to stroke Lexa’s hair over and over again, panting as Lexa’s sucking became light nibbling between clever flicks of her tongue. Each one sent stabs of fire clean through Clarke’s belly, and a whimper she hardly recognized broke in her throat.   
  
More. Clarke wanted more. She wanted to feel Lexa hot and throbbing in her hand, and have Lexa’s hand hold the aching whole of her too. But she wasn’t sure it was okay. It felt right, and yet…   
  
“Clarke?”   
  
Clarke gasped as Lexa broke away from her nipple. She gazed down, not bothering to hide her need even though she was sure it had to be written all across her face.   
  
“Lex?”   
  
“Will you—?”   
  
Lexa seemed to lose her courage, but then, she clasped Clarke’s hand in hers. With threaded fingers, she guided Clarke down, across the flat landscape of her belly and over her smooth thigh to feel between her legs.   
  
Clarke felt a jolt. Lexa wasn’t just full, but wet as well. Wet and dripping, just like she was. She touched, cautiously at first, then with more confidence as Lexa’s gorgeous green eyes held hers. There wasn’t fear inside them, not anymore. Lust, yes, but also something else, something indescribably tender. Clarke didn’t need it described further, though, because she felt it within herself as well.   
  
Slowly, she set about learning what strokes Lexa liked. She experimented, squeezing softly, then more firmly. She tried different speeds until she found one that made Lexa’s hips buck beneath hers, and that was when Clarke realized she was still wearing her pants and underwear. That wouldn’t do. Lexa was already so vulnerable before her, and she wanted to return that trust with her own. She let go, and Lexa whined with disappointment, but Clarke pressed a reassuring kiss to her lips. She only scooted away long enough to shuck off her jeans and wiggle out of her panties, which were stained straight through the middle.   
  
“Sorry,” she muttered, nibbling at Lexa’s bottom lip. “I’m not stopping, I just want to be naked with you.”   
  
Lexa’s sigh was all approval. She wrapped her arms around Clarke and turned them over, until she was on top. Clarke was surprised, but didn’t object at all. She brought her hand where it had been before, back between Lexa’s legs, and grasped her again, stroking steadily with the slickness Lexa was making. Making for her.   
  
“Clarke…”   
  
Lexa’s hand traveled between her legs as well, and Clarke keened at the first brush. She had always admired Lexa’s long, graceful fingers, but now, as they delved between her outer lips to stroke along her soaked slit, she appreciated them even more than she’d thought possible. They were so clever, so dextrous as they teased her entrance, testing the tightness there before moving up to rub circles around her clit.   
  
“I’ve—I’ve never done this before,” Lexa muttered, kissing down Clarke’s chest again.   
  
Clarke used her free hand to grasp Lexa’s hair before she could latch on to another nipple. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Just kiss me. Kiss me.”   
  
They kissed, and Clarke melted into the rumpled sheets as Lexa figured out what to do. It didn’t take her much practice, and Clarke tried to make noises whenever she could to offer some guidance, but that wasn’t really necessary. Lexa just knew. Either she was lucky, or extremely present in the moment, but Clarke didn’t care. It wouldn’t have mattered how clumsy Lexa was, because it was Lexa touching her.   
  
It was difficult to concentrate enough to return the favor, but Clarke tried her best. She’d waited so long for this, and she wasn’t going to stop for anything. She focused on Lexa’s tip, circling with her thumb, enjoying the silky fluid there and how soft it made Lexa’s skin feel. Then she moved down, down to where Lexa was swollen and full, and squeezed until Lexa gave a jolt against her.   
  
“Clarke,” Lexa rasped, and this time, her voice was more of a growl.   
  
Clarke quivered to hear it. She had always known there was more to Lexa behind the quiet introvert, beneath the mask of calmness. There was passion there, and Clarke wanted every drop of it. She tilted up, urging Lexa to slide inside, and whimpered as she did.   
  
It wasn’t the fullest Clarke had ever been. She had toys at home that were thicker. But even with just one of Lexa’s fingers, then two, she felt indescribably content. It wasn’t the stretch so much as the woman inside her, and she clenched down hard, realizing with some embarrassment that she was already close.   
  
“Lexa,” she murmured, pressing breathy kisses to Lexa’s lips the whole while. “Lexa, Lexa, I’m going to come, I’m coming…”   
  
Lexa didn’t say anything—just kissed her harder. And when she did, Clarke came, grasping wildly at Lexa’s knuckles and spilling a river onto the sheets underneath them.   
  
It was powerful. It was wonderful. And it was so, so much better than Clarke had dreamed it would be. Lexa circled her clit the whole while, speeding up the ripples that passed through Clarke’s body, coaxing her through them with a fierce tenderness that left tears in Clarke’s eyes.   
  
“Clarke,” Lexa groaned into her neck, and Clarke trembled at the throaty way Lexa said her name. Even as her peak faded, that voice and the look in Lexa’s eyes kept her going much longer than she was used to.   
  
As the fog cleared, Clarke became determined. She refocused her attention, resuming the motion of her hand, gazing at Lexa’s face all the while and taking in every minute detail. She studied with an artist’s eye, relearning the features she already knew so well, memorizing every movement, every twitch. She trailed kisses along Lexa’s cheek and beside her ear, and that earned her a powerful pulse against her palm.   
  
When Clarke noticed Lexa’s teeth were gritted, she whispered reassurances. “It’s okay, Lex. Don’t hold it. I want you to come. I want to feel you…”   
  
That was all Lexa needed. Her pelvis gave a short snap before Clarke even finished her sentence, and warmth flooded over the top of Clarke’s fist. She kept moving, guiding Lexa through her climax, doing her best to soothe the need in Lexa’s glassy green eyes. She wanted Lexa to feel good. She wanted Lexa to find release for her and because of her.   
  
Eventually, Lexa had nothing more to give. Clarke held her until it was over, only letting go when Lexa’s breathing evened out. The two of them stared at each other until Lexa said, “Clarke, I don’t want it to be over.”   
  
A huge smile stretched across Clarke’s face. “It’s not over, baby. It’s just starting.”   
  
“Sex? Or us?” Lexa asked, her voice quavering with hope.   
  
“Us,” Clarke said, without hesitation. She brought her sticky hand up to her mouth, licking her fingers clean of Lexa while her new lover—Lexa was her _ lover _ now—watched in awe. “You taste good,” she sighed, letting her eyes close for a moment so she could enjoy the taste. Salty, but not unpleasant. Kind of nice, really. It made her want more.   
  
Lexa was the one who used her mouth first, though. She made her way down Clarke’s body, darting here and there, kissing and nuzzling and nipping. Clarke didn’t have the will or the desire to stop her. She allowed Lexa’s mouth to travel where it would, spreading her legs once Lexa left her breasts to continue down her stomach.   
  
“I love your belly,” Lexa sighed into Clarke’s lower abdomen, rubbing her cheek against it. “No, really,” she said when Clarke laughed. “I know you don’t, but I love it. I love it.”   
  
Something about the insistence in Lexa’s voice made Clarke laugh. She parted her thighs wider, inviting Lexa between them. “Lex,” she said, using her dry hand to filter Lexa’s thick brown hair through her fingers. “Please?”

***

For a moment, Lexa felt suspended in space and time.  _ Please.  _ How long had she dreamed of hearing Clarke say please? How many nights had she imagined the exact cadence of Clarke’s voice? How many lonely hours had she spent wrapped up in this exact fantasy, this beautiful dream that was now her reality?   
  
This was actually happening, she realized as she gazed up into Clarke’s eyes. It wasn’t a dream or her imagination. Clarke really was petting her head, really was pleading for her to go lower, really was spreading her legs and tilting her pelvis up with clear intent.   
  
Lexa’s mouth went dry, then overflowed with water. Clarke’s voice wasn’t the only thing she had imagined. There was also Clarke’s smell and taste, which she hadn’t been able to conjure in any significant detail, but which she had wondered about endlessly. Now, she didn’t have to wonder. She could experience.   
  
Although Lexa tried to take her time moving down Clarke’s belly, then up both gorgeous thighs, she couldn’t make herself wait for long. It felt like she’d already been denying herself for years, and with Clarke spread open before her, pink and wet and wanting, she had no chance of resistance. She slipped her shoulders beneath Clarke’s knees and inhaled deeply.   
  
Clarke smelled like some kind of body lotion mixed with a musky sort of sweetness that Lexa immediately decided she loved. Encouraged, she placed a kiss to one of Clarke’s outer lips, and was rewarded with a needy gasp from above. She looked up, and was treated to the sight of Clarke’s breasts rising and falling with quick breaths of anticipation.   
  
“Tell me if I do something wrong,” Lexa said. Then, with a little more confidence, “Or right.” Gathering courage, she slid her flattened tongue through Clarke’s heat, trying to cover every bit of silky flesh she could.   
  
Clarke grasped Lexa’s hair, not pulling, but definitely encouraging, and Lexa would have smiled if her mouth wasn’t busy.  _ Slow,  _ she told herself as she learned Clarke’s landscape.  _ Easy. You have time.  _ But she had already been patient for so long, and Clarke was rolling into her.   
  
Soon, Lexa was sucking firmly at Clarke’s clit while Clarke released a chorus of steadily rising moans. They were even sweeter than the sounds she’d made while Lexa’s fingers were inside her, and when that fleeting thought rose to the top of Lexa’s brain, she ran with it, easing back inside like before. Clarke accepted her easily, and she was delighted to discover that every time she rolled her tongue over Clarke’s clit, Clarke’s muscles clenched down in response.   
  
Lexa made a game of it, thrusting and curling, sucking and licking, testing out different ways to make Clarke shudder and pull her hair. Her jaw began to ache a little, but she didn’t care. She could have stayed like this forever, tasting Clarke’s wetness, feeling the growing flutters within Clarke’s core. Each time they became stronger, more rhythmic, and Lexa wasn’t sure whether to be delighted or disappointed when she realized why: Clarke was close to coming.   
  
_ It doesn’t have to be over, _ she reminded herself.  _ Clarke said so. She said this was just the beginning of us… _   
  
Us. Lexa had wanted the two of them to become an ‘us’ for so long that she could scarcely believe it was actually happening. With her head buried between Clarke’s thighs, fingers sliding, tongue swirling, she wasn’t quite sure where the boundaries between them were anymore. Sometimes, it felt like they didn’t exist at all.   
  
On Lexa’s next stroke, Clarke made a particularly pleased moan. Lexa froze, trying to figure out why, and realized that the tips of her fingers had hit a puffy spot along one of Clarke’s clenching walls. She probed it again, and Clarke made the same sound, only much louder and lovelier. Pretty sure she was on to something, Lexa hooked her fingertips into it, curling a bit harder each time. Clarke responded, rocking her hips almost desperately, then going stiff and taut like a rubber band about to snap.   
  
For a moment, Lexa just soaked it in. She had brought Clarke to the very edge, and while she had been in a bit of a whirlwind the first time, the gravity of that fact descended upon her. She was going to make Clarke come.   
  
“Baby, more,” Clarke said, raking her nails over Lexa’s scalp. “Don’t… don’t stop…”   
  
_ Baby. I’m her baby now,  _ Lexa thought, with no shortage of pride. She pressed into the spot without letting up and drew Clarke’s clit deep into her mouth.   
  
Clarke squealed and jerked off the sheets. Her ripples became rapid pulses, a heartbeat wrapped right around Lexa’s fingers. The movement of her hips became uneven, but Lexa did her best to follow, refusing to let Clarke shift away from her mouth no matter how much she moved. Not that there was much risk. Although Clarke was thrumming like a livewire, her hands never stopped grasping the back of Lexa’s head.   
  
The rush of fluid caught Lexa by surprise. It hit her chin first, slipping down her cheeks, and Lexa instinctively opened her mouth in the hopes of stealing a taste. Clarke was hotter and runnier than before, with the slightest edge of bitterness, but it wasn’t a bad sort of bitter by any means. Lexa found herself craving more. She stopped sucking, running her tongue all over Clarke to clean her up.   
  
Clarke continued twitching for a minute afterward, staring dazedly up at the strobe lights with sweat gleaming on her body. Lexa was reluctant to stop, but gazing at Clarke’s shivering, satisfied form was enough of a reward. She raised her head, taking it all in. “Clarke, are you okay?”   
  
“Mm.” Clarke looked up at her with the smuggest grin Lexa had ever seen. “Are you kidding? I’m fantastic.” She paused, running her tongue over her lower lip. “But you seem like you could use a little more attention, huh?”   
  
Lexa realized that Clarke was right. She’d been so wrapped up in making Clarke come that she hadn’t noticed. Her cheeks heated up, and her first instinct was to murmur, “You don’t have to if—”   
  
“You idiot,” Clarke said. She placed two fingers beneath Lexa’s chin, guiding her up until they were face to face again. “I want to. I’ve wanted to since we were kids. Well, not the sex part, obviously. But I wanted you.”   
  
Lexa’s heart glowed inside her chest. “Yeah?”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“Lex…” Clarke shifted her hips forward, hooking a knee around Lexa’s hip. “You won’t disappoint me if you say no. I’ll understand, and there’s a bunch of other stuff we can do. But, if you want to... I’m on birth control, and I got tested after my hookup with Niylah.”   
  
Lexa shuddered at the offer. She knew what Clarke meant. She was pressed right into Clarke’s belly, practically rubbing against it. It would only take a little bit of adjustments for her to slot her hips between Clarke’s legs and go inside… if she wanted to. Somehow, it meant a lot that Clarke was giving her the choice.   
  
And yet, it wasn’t quite how Lexa had always envisioned her first time. She had thought about what it would feel like to be inside of Clarke, to feel clenching heat all around her, but…   
  
Clarke, who knew her so well, spoke again. “Do you not want to, or is it something else?”   
  
“I want to,” Lexa said. “It’s just…”   
  
To her utter relief, Clarke seemed to understand. “What if we both did it at the same time?”   
  
Lexa’s brow furrowed. “What?”   
  
“At the same time,” Clarke said. “You go inside me.” She slid her hand along Lexa’s back, grasping her rear. “And I go inside you? I think I can reach.”   
  
Lexa could have wept. The pieces she hadn’t been able to sort suddenly clicked together. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be inside Clarke—she just wanted to feel the same thing. She felt kind of stupid for not realizing it sooner, but it felt as if a huge weight had been lifted. “Would you?”   
  
Clarke leaned up to kiss her, soft and sweet. “Of course, baby. Anything you want.”   
  
While Lexa watched, Clarke slid a hand down along her own belly, sinking two fingers inside herself and bucking against the heel of her hand.   
  
“What are you doing?” Lexa whispered.   
  
“Lube,” Clarke said with a gentle laugh. “We don’t have any here, unless you brought some.”   
  
Lexa blushed. She hadn’t really thought it through that far, but she was glad Clarke had—and she was very glad that Clarke was wet enough for both of them.   
  
They didn’t need to talk much after that. Their bodies communicated for them. Clarke removed her hand and guided Lexa on top of her, and Lexa hissed as her tip slid through Clarke’s warmth. Maybe she was sensitive, or maybe Clarke was just that hot and smooth, but it made her head spin like nothing else. Her doubts melted away until she couldn’t remember them at all.   
  
Lexa was sinking inside before she even realized. It was like being swallowed by burning silk, and she instantly wanted more.  _ Oh god. Tight. Soft. So much better than my hand. _ She had to take a moment to breathe. Feelings Clarke’s muscles shift around her threatened to push her over the edge before she was ready.   
  
“It’s okay,” Clarke cooed, drawing soothing patterns on Lexa’s back with her dry hand. “Take your time. It feels good for me.”   
  
“It does?” Lexa gave a testing thrust, trying to be gentle, and Clarke responded. She dug her heel into the small of Lexa’s back, guiding her the rest of the way in with a single push.   
  
Lexa’s world shook. She tensed, and it took everything she had not to come. Clarke felt so good. So amazingly good. She’d been worried about this moment, but she couldn’t remember why. Being inside Clarke felt absolutely right.   
  
It wasn’t until Clarke said, “Your turn?” that Lexa remembered the other part of their deal. She’d been about to experiment with thrusting her hips, but tensed a little at the offer.   
  
“Only if you’re okay with it.”   
  
“I’m more than okay with it,” Clarke said. “I wanna be inside you, too.”   
  
Lexa inhaled slowly, looking into Clarke’s eyes. The confidence there bolstered her own, and she gave Clarke a slow, deep kiss. “Please…”   
  
Two of Clarke’s wet fingers slid between Lexa’s legs from behind, teasing a little bit before brushing her opening.   
  
It was awkward at first. Clarke struggled to get the angle right, but with a little adjustment, she managed to line her fingers up. Lexa waited for her to go in, but Clarke took her time, stroking for a while before even starting to press forward. She dipped in and out, endlessly patient, and the teasing was made more difficult by the fact that Clarke’s muscles were still clenching every couple of seconds.   
  
“Please,” Lexa gasped after Clarke avoided going further for what felt like the hundredth time. “Inside?”   
  
Clarke kissed her, and Lexa’s vision went blurry as the fingers resting at her entrance finally sank in. It was strange at first. Not uncomfortable, but not as good as pushing inside of Clarke had felt. But then Clarke wiggled them a little deeper and started moving, and Lexa sucked in a sharp breath. White-hot pleasure flashed in her stomach, and she twitched hard in the grasp of Clarke’s walls.   
  
“I think we can both thrust,” Clarke panted. “Okay?” Her blue eyes were cloudy like the sea after a storm, and Lexa could have lost herself in them.   
  
“Okay.”   
  
Lexa gave a cautious pump of her hips, and instantly, the white stabs of pleasure returned. Moving inside of Clarke was wonderful, so slick and smooth. As she did, she felt Clarke shift inside of her too, pressing a sensitive spot that made her quiver all over. Tears welled in her eyes, not just because it felt good, but because it felt utterly right.

***

Clarke groaned as Lexa began moving on top of her, trying to establish a cautious rhythm. She was a little uncertain, but Clarke did everything she could to help, pressing light kisses to Lexa’s lips and guiding Lexa’s rear with the palm of her hand. Two of her fingers were still embedded, but she didn’t really have to think much about them. Lexa’s movements did a lot of the work for her. It did feel good to have Lexa’s walls grasp them, though, and Clarke was honored by what it meant: she knew she was the first person Lexa had ever been with, this way or any other way.   
  
_ That just means I have to make this as amazing as possible for her. _ _  
_   
Determined to do just that, Clarke forced down the pleasure stirring in her belly and focused on Lexa. She squeezed her inner muscles, feeling a surge of satisfaction when she managed to draw a moan from Lexa’s mouth. She did it over and over, clenching and releasing every time Lexa bottomed out inside of her.   
  
“Feels so good, baby,” she mumbled against Lexa’s cheek, ignoring the strands of Lexa’s loose hair that stuck to her lips. “Love having you inside me. Love being inside you.”   
  
“Love… you…”   
  
At first, Clarke thought Lexa was just repeating some of what she’d said, but when the two words came again, “Love you,” it struck like a thunderclap.   
  
_ She’s saying I love you. Lexa loves me. _   
  
“Lexa,” she laughed, her eyes brimming with tears. “I love you too.”   
  
As soon as Clarke said the words, Lexa kissed her. Their mouths didn’t part at all after that, barely separating enough to breathe. As their tongues brushed, their hips picked up a shared rhythm, rolling back and forth as the two of them discovered what felt best.   
  
It didn’t surprise Clarke when she came. She could feel it building within her, swelling from a tickle in her belly to a sharp, clenching ache. What did surprise her was how powerful her peak was. It started slow, and she released a sigh against Lexa’s lips as the pleasure washed over her, but soon it came in crashing waves. They hit one after another, until Clarke felt like she was floating. She gripped Lexa in every possible way, bearing down with her muscles, clutching Lexa’s shoulder with her free hand, grasping Lexa’s ass as she pumped her fingers deeper. Her orgasm made it hard to do anything except surrender, but she tried her best for Lexa’s sake.   
  
_ Perfect. This is perfect. Except… except I want her to come with me. Want her to… _   
  
“Lexa,” Clarke whimpered between kisses, still refusing to release Lexa’s mouth. “Lex, baby… come with me?”   
  
That was all it took. Lexa’s body stiffened above hers, then started shaking, and Clarke felt a slight sting in her bottom lip. Lexa had tugged it between her teeth. Before the mild flash of pain could even fade, Clarke felt something else: Lexa’s walls squeezing down hard around her fingers, and a rush of warmth inside her. It came in pulses, and Clarke fluttered wildly with each slip of heat that spilled into her core.   
  
No one had ever come inside her before. She’d had sex with other partners, Finn included, but they’d always used condoms for the extra insurance. _ Maybe,  _ Clarke thought, _ that wasn’t the only reason? Maybe it’s because Lexa was the only one I trusted? The only one I wanted.  _ But those thoughts flew swiftly from her mind. In this perfect moment, it was impossible to think of anybody but Lexa filling her. It was just the two of them, wrapped up in their own little world.   
  
Gradually, their bodies calmed. Lexa stopped moving first, and Clarke stilled as well, struggling to process what had just happened. There was so much—an endless list of perfect details she wanted to preserve forever: the stretch of Lexa inside her, the way Lexa’s muscles moved under her hands, how Lexa’s mouth tasted. Clarke could go on and on, and it was a little heartbreaking to realize she wouldn’t get to live this moment ever again.   
  
“Clarke?”   
  
She realized Lexa was staring at her, and happiness swelled within her again. She might not be able to reproduce this exact moment in its entirety, but she and Lexa weren’t finished.  _ We’re an ‘us’ now. We’ll get all sorts of new moments, as many as we want. And I can’t wait to live them. _   
  
“Lexa, thank you. That was beautiful. And by the way, I love you, and you’re my girlfriend now.”   
  
Lexa looked surprised, but it was quickly replaced by amusement. “Isn’t that supposed to be a mutual decision?”   
  
“Well, yes,” Clarke said, “but you’re not going to say no.”   
  
Lexa chuckled, resting her forehead against Clarke’s. “No. I’m not. I mean—yes. Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.”   
  
“Good.”   
  
They stayed like that for a while, cuddling close and listening to each other’s heartbeats, until Clarke realized the strobe lights were shining in her eyes. The brightness caused her to squint, and she suddenly remembered where they were: naked in the middle of the photography studio. Even though it was nighttime, it was still sort of a public place.   
  
“How about we move this to my dorm room? My bed’s a lot more comfortable.”   
  
Realization seemed to strike Lexa too. “Oh. Oh, shit. We’re still here, aren’t we? What about your project?”   
  
Clarke grinned. “I think I’ve got more than enough material. And you’re really gonna like how my photographs turn out.”   
  
“Oh?”   
  
“Definitely. Because there’s love in every one.”   
  
“You’re cheesy,” Lexa snorted.   
  
“ _ You’re  _ cheesy. But seriously, let’s go. I’ve got plans for you, and I don’t wanna do them all on the floor.”


End file.
